Crossed Blades
by Ellthor
Summary: A story of three friends of different heritages. It has been many years since the death of the very old, and famous, warrior Drizzt Do'Urden. Who will be the next legend to rise and take over the legacy Drizzt had started with his heorics? R&R appreciated
1. Chapter 1

juHe whipped around the corner, running with everything he had. His light steps could not be heard in the pitch dark of the tunnel, by normal ears. The footsteps behind him were very light, and even he had to strain to hear them. The darkness enfolded him, and he was having difficulty seeing ahead any great distance.

He rounded another corner and stopped. The footsteps behind him were getting closer, and much faster than before. With little to no sound, he took of running again, thinking to make it back outside, into the open.

A slight clicking sound went off behind him, and a small dart hit the wall right beside him. They were getting close, and he knew it, but he kept running. Another bend appeared, seemingly, out of nowhere. He had no time to slow down for the turn, and he slammed into the wall, falling to the ground.

Knowing that when he got up, his enemy would be upon him, he grabbed the hilts of his rapiers. With a yell that echoed through the darkness, he jumped up, pulling the blades from his belt, ready to face his enemy. The blades were curved slightly, unlike normal rapiers..

"Have you decided to give up?" The voice was feminine, and very close. When it spoke again it was much closer, and there was surprised, mixed with anticipation, in it, "So, you won't go down peacefully? If it is a fight you wish, you should have stopped a long time ago, Zarlel."

"You and your men will never be able to take me down, Xzereth." Zarlel said as he brought up his hands, the rapiers glinted with an inner light as he did so. The darkness was almost to deep for Zarlel. He was having a hard time making out his opponents. To make things worse, he was completely aware that they could see him just fine.

The sound of four blades being unsheathed broke the strange silence that accompanied the darkness. Zarlel knew there was only three enemies, so he guess one had two blades, and he guessed it was Xzereth who had them.

With another yell, Zarlel jumped forward, whipping his rapiers forward in a very direct attack.

"Blasted fool! Why did he have to go an' run of again? I just don't get that one!" Druelk Thunderaxe had once again gone into one of his fits of anger. Jernaltor, a roguish friend of Druelk was sitting by the dwarf, trying to get some sense past the dwarf's thick skull.

"You know very well why he left. You, like myself, saw it coming when he first got the news of his parents' deaths. I doubt you, even in your stubborn Dwarven way, would let a murderer get away with killing your parents!"

"Darn ye, Jern! We both know bloody well that it's a trap! An orc without head could tell ye that!"

The halfling shook his head in disgust, "Don't you take your anger out on me, Druelk! You know very well the honor system of our friend. If he had not gone, he would have brooded on it continually and fallen into depression's hands!"

Druelk glared at the halfling, half-wanting to rip his head off for talking to him like he was a child. It was true, everything Jernaltor had said. The stubborn dwarf threw up his arms and stormed out of the small room they had been talking in.

"Sometimes I wonder why I bother with people like him." Jern muttered to himself as he reached into one of his many pockets. He pulled out a fair sized diamond and said, "Ah, now I remember! I get a lot out of it!"

If you would like a character of your own to join in, then just put the following in a review:

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	2. Chapter 2

Zarlel's rapiers clashed with the two short swords that Xzereth held. Zarlel broke the lock before it really began, and he slashed his left rapier at one of the other shadowy figures that was coming up to him, while his right blade thrust down at Xzereth's stomach. Both blades were met by steel, so Zarlel did not waste any time in ducking out of the way of Xzereth's second blade and the third figure's single longsword. He went into a role, to Xzereth's right, and thrust his right rapier at the third figure. This time, there was no sound of steel on steel, but steel piercing flesh. The figure grunted, and fell to the floor as Zarlel withdrew his bloodied blade.

"Is that honestly the best you've trained, Xzereth? Surely you have something better?" Zarlel said as he stood up from his crouch.

Xzereth looked at her enemy with utter contempt, "Those who fall do not deserve life. It is the way of my people, and you should know that all to well. The weak do not deserve what the strong have! Now shut up and die!" Xzereth went into a wild flurry of attack that came from all directions, which cut of her last ally from attacking. Zarlel fended of each strike with a parry from his rapiers with grace and ease that defied the vicious woman. Soon Xzereth made a mistake, and Zarlel was able to slip past her and engage his other enemy. He had barely gotten his blades in striking position, when his left was caught by something and ripped from his hand. Zarlel followed through with his attack, though, and another foe fell to the ground. Now there was only Xzereth, and the one who had disarmed his left hand.

There was a swish through the air, and Zarlel ducked and rolled to the right. A whip cracked and the stone of the floor cracked as well. The whip was obviously made of steel. Zarlel began to have the feeling that if he survived his encounter it would be very narrowly.

"Why won't you just accept your fate, elf! You know there is no way for you to survive!" Xzereth said, contempt dripping from her voice so heavily it could almost be seen. She hated Zarlel, but for reasons known only to herself and Zarlel.

"I won't accept my _fate _because this is not my fate!" Zarlel yelled. He tossed his remaining rapier into his empty hand, and pulled forth a throwing knife, and in less than a second, the knife was buried in his enemy's throat.

Zarlel looked at the corpse, not feeling any satisfaction in the death of his most hated enemy. He almost forgot about his other enemy that still lived, until there was a clash of metal by his feet. Looking down, he saw his rapier. Quickly snatching it up, he looked around in search of the unknown assailant.

"Greetings, Zarlel Lefrunel. Do not be alarmed. I am an ally. Maybe not a friend, but not an enemy either. My name is Ray'ne Falaone. I am a drow mercenary, hired by this one. I am a several hundred years old. I was alive back when Baenre was still alive."

"I don't care about your history! Why did you try and kill me?"

"On the contrary Zarlel. I merely disarmed you. I did not try and kill you. If I had, I would have succeeded. Now, I want to make a deal with you." Ray'ne said as she moved closer to the elf.

"A deal? What makes you think I'd even bother listening to you?" Zarlel asked.

"Because, I know where your parents are. They were not killed, but they were taken away. And before you ask, no they are not in Menzobarranzen. They are on the surface, held by an ally of Xzereth. I will not give anymore information until you agree to my offer."

"Which is?" Zarlel asked. The elf had not sheathed his weapons, and was not going to until he was far away from the drow.

"I shall walk with you to the surface, and explain things on the way. It will probably take that long to explain everything anyway."

"Fine. But you walk ahead of me. You claim to be an ally, but I doubt the words of a drow."


	3. Chapter 3

The Sea of Swords rose and fell, as the mighty vessel came ever closer to shore. The ship was not on one if its normal errands, which raiding Waterdeep. In fact, it was some several walking days north of the mighty port city. The mountains known as the Spine of the World stood out against the virtually flat landscape they stood upon.

The vessel neared the shore, and drove up onto it. The Captain had picked the perfect spot for landing; soft ground so the ship would not break open, but hard enough to keep from breaking away. The crew climbed down from the ship and began tying it up. They pounded pegs into the icy ground, and tied lines to them. The Captain jumped down, landing gracefully. His tattered clothing blew in the wind, but he did not find the northern winds cold. After all, he had spent most of his days up in north, raiding town and cities. He began walking north, not bothering to see if his crew was following, for he knew they would. They were treated fairly, and they revered him as their Captain.

"Whatever keeps them happy. They'll end up like the last crew… dead, but having served their purpose."

His first-mate ran up to him and said, "Captain Searay, sir. The crew is getting cranky. They didn't want to land at all, and go off looking for something in those god-forsaken mountains! They are afraid of what lives there."

Hanzo Searay glared at the first-mate and said, "They'll do what I tell them. They know what's good for them. Besides, once we find the loot within those mountains, they'll be happy enough." The first-mate nodded dumbly and went away.

Hanzo adjusted the bandana around his head, and the one around his mouth. He then adjusted the cutlass on his left hip and the thin bladed longsword on right hip so they would not trip him up when he walked. This was going to be a very worthwhile venture, he could feel it!

…

Druelk was standing on a ledge of Tierpeak Mountain. Its name came from the many natural ledges that gave the mountain about ten levels. He stood on the second. His gaze went south, across the icy planes, to the warmer areas. Where was his friend? Zarlel had never been gone for such an amount of time. From what the message had indicated, he should have been back several days ago. Something must of held him up. Jernaltor came out of the inner chambers of the mountain mine and stood beside his friend. "He'll be back. We never knew him to leave us." The halfling said, trying to comfort the dwarf.

"I have a feelin' something's comin', Jern. And I'm afraid that if Zarlel is not back when it arrives, we might not last long enough for him to get here."

Jern knew his friend was serious. Never did the dwarf talk of defeat so readily. He and his small clan of dwarves had face many foes, large and small, and they never gave up. Whatever was giving Druelk the unsettled feeling, Jern knew that it was much bigger than he would be able to take.

…

Zarlel sat at the exit to the tunnels that led down into the Underdark, listening to the last words of Ray'ne's offer. There was nothing for it, so Zarlel nodded his head.

The drow smiled and said, "Wise decision Zarlel. I shall uphold my end of the bargain, of course. Your parents are being held by a small thieves guild outside of Baldur's Gate. Not very far, just far enough out of the Guards' reach of them! I know not more than that, so you'll have to find the guildhouse yourself. Good luck, Zarlel."

Zarlel cocked an eyebrow at the drow, "'Good luck'? I've never heard those words pass the lips of a drow. I believe the closest thing to 'good luck' in the drow tongue is translated to 'succeed or die.'"

Ray'ne smiled and said, "If you succeed, Zarlel, I succeed. You have a part of the deal to honor as well. But it can't be completed until your parents are free. Now go!" Ray'ne turned and ran back down into the darkness. Zarlel shook his head and began walking north, back to the Spine of the World where his friends awaited him… And where a crew of pirates marched.


End file.
